Burghley Sculpture Garden

Pod by Nick Horrigan

Fire by David Annesley

Much as we loved our trip to Kew for the Henry Moore Exhibition, a combination of the relentlessly dry and crispy condition of the gardens, and perhaps a smidgen too many Henry Moore's on show had me yearning for something with a bit more variety. Ideally a bit closer to home... and a bit greener!

I'll travel quite a distance to see good modernist sculpture by an absolute colossus of the form like Moore, but perhaps not quite so far when there's dozens of them. A single statement piece in an appropriate setting is always going to impress. By the twentieth statement piece, the impact is likely to have diminished somewhat. In this age of instant access and short attention spans, I want to be surprised and titillated at every turn, because I'm shallow like that.

Fool's Lantern by Nick Horrigan

Interred by Joseph Hillier

Living as we do in semi-rural North Londonshire, we have the pick of Stately Homes to visit. Which is a shame because I've never felt the need to gawp at upper-class life in that way. The gardens are a different matter though, often the venue for major events and festivals, relatively inexpensive to visit, and who doesn't like strolling around a well-tended garden with an ice cream.

One of the more local Country Piles to us is Burghley House near Stamford. Home to the world famous Horse Trials of course, slightly less famous for it's impressive collection of modern Sculpture.

There's truly something for everyone here, including a delightful Garden of Surprises that's ideal for children of all ages, ourselves included. Access to the gardens is around £12, and you'll be happy strolling with your Camera (and perhaps a picnic, the café wasn't all that to be honest) for two or three hours on a sunny day at least.

The Edge by Nicolas Moreton

I took the FED on this slightly more affordable occasion, and very quickly shot my way through 24 exposures of Kodak Gold 200, running out of film just as we were ready to leave. Once again I left feeling we went at the wrong time of the year. The gardens were very busy with families, a last hurrah before little-uns returned to school, and how much better would it all have looked on a frosty Winter morning, perhaps cloaked in mist or blanketed in snow, when the gardens are sadly not actually open...